hey! i saw your fic abt malachi and ed reader and also the t1d reader abt her getting low sugar backstage so i wondered if you could kind of combine the two (feel free to put a spin on the setting)
malachi x reader where reader is recovering from an ed and she gets really dizzy backstage during a show and he finds her.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ Pass Out Behind Stage
T1D!ed!girlfriend!reader x Malachi Barton
˙⋆✮ ˙ warning: moderate angst, small fluff, malachi being so sweet and cute
˙⋆✮ ˙ a/n: hiii! yes ofc! i would love to write more of these. as always, no hate or harm to anyone who has t1-2d or ed. as always, if you ever need someone to talk to you, i am here for you! my inbox or private dm's are always open for you! anyways, enjoy!
The show had been nonstop from the second everyone arrived at the venue.
Between rehearsals, interviews, wardrobe checks, sound checks, and trying to make sure everything ran smoothly backstage, it felt like the entire day had passed in the blink of an eye. Normally, you thrived in busy environments. Keeping yourself occupied meant you didn't have to think too much. It was easier that way.
But recovery had taught you something important.
Your body wasn't something you could ignore forever.
As someone living with Type 1 diabetes while also working through eating disorder recovery, you were constantly trying to find a balance. Some days were easier than others. Some days you felt strong. Other days felt like you were relearning how to take care of yourself from the beginning.
Today had apparently decided to be one of those difficult days.
You had noticed it hours ago if you were being honest.
The slight shakiness in your hands.
The headache lingering behind your eyes.
The exhaustion that seemed heavier than usual.
But there had always been something else to focus on. Someone needing help. Somewhere you needed to be. Something that seemed more important.
So you pushed through it.
Unfortunately, your body had other plans.
The moment you stepped away from the crowded backstage area and into one of the quieter hallways, a wave of dizziness hit you so suddenly that you stumbled.
You immediately grabbed the wall beside you.
The floor seemed to tilt underneath your feet.
"Okay..." you whispered to yourself.
You squeezed your eyes shut and took a slow breath.
Maybe you stood up too fast.
Maybe you just needed water.
The dizziness only got worse.
When you opened your eyes again, the hallway looked strangely blurry. The bright overhead lights felt painfully harsh, and your legs suddenly seemed far less interested in holding you upright.
Before you could lose your balance completely, you carefully lowered yourself onto a large equipment case sitting against the wall.
You only needed a minute.
The cool metal pressed against your legs as you leaned forward and rested your head in your hands.
The last thing you wanted was anyone finding you like this.
Not because he would be upset.
And after everything you'd been through lately, you knew he was constantly checking in on you without making it obvious.
You didn't want him thinking you were struggling.
You didn't want him feeling like he needed to watch over you every second of the day.
So you sat there quietly, hoping the dizziness would pass before anyone noticed.
Unfortunately, you weren't nearly as sneaky as you thought.
You knew that voice instantly.
Slowly, you lifted your head.
Sure enough, Malachi was standing a few feet away, holding a water bottle in one hand.
For a moment, he looked confused.
Then his eyes properly focused on you.
The confusion vanished immediately.
His expression changed so fast it almost made you feel guilty.
Concern replaced it in an instant.
Within seconds he was kneeling in front of you, setting the water bottle down and studying your face carefully.
You immediately knew that answer wasn't going to work.
The kind of worried that made your chest ache.
"You're sitting alone backstage looking like you're about to pass out."
"...Maybe I'm just tired."
That one word nearly broke you.
Because suddenly you realized how exhausted you actually were.
How hard you'd been trying.
How much effort recovery took every single day.
You swallowed hard and stared at the floor.
The silence lasted long enough that Malachi seemed to understand exactly what wasn't being said.
His expression softened immediately.
You hated how quickly he figured things out.
"I'm okay," you repeated quietly.
The response caught you off guard.
Malachi was still kneeling in front of you.
Still watching you carefully.
But there was no disappointment on his face.
"You know you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" he asked gently.
"You don't have to prove you're doing okay all the time."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Because deep down, part of you had been trying to do exactly that.
Trying to prove you were getting better.
Trying to prove you weren't struggling.
Trying to prove you could handle everything on your own.
Malachi reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.
"You've been working so hard," he said quietly. "I see it every day."
Your eyes immediately filled with tears.
Not because you were sad.
"You think I don't notice?"
A shaky laugh escaped you.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
The distant sound of the crowd echoed through the building.
Music vibrated faintly through the walls.
People rushed around preparing for the next part of the show.
But sitting there beside Malachi, the world suddenly felt a lot quieter.
"You wanna know something?" he asked.
"If you need to sit backstage for twenty minutes and do absolutely nothing, that's okay."
That finally earned a real laugh from you.
The kind that made Malachi immediately smile too.
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head before squeezing your hand again.
And for the first time all day, you felt yourself relax.
Not because everything was suddenly fixed.
Not because recovery had magically become easy.
But because you weren't carrying it alone.
And somehow, with Malachi sitting beside you, that made all the difference.
